Though it’s a lot more just a quirk that my wife like’s to celebrate things, I found it interesting that 18 (yāobā) is considered lucky by Chinese superstitious mumbo jumbo.

In addition to that relatively useless thought, I’ve been pondering the whole “marriage” thing a lot lately.

A good friend of mine told me recently that he’s getting divorced. That split will officially mark me as the sole torch-bearer for successful matrimony among my four buddies from high school.

The good news is that with an average divorce rate of about 35%, statistically Mags and I are pretty much assured to be good well into the next century.

Which is about how I feel. I mean, I truly love my wife.

Now, I’m not new to love. I’ve been in and out of love a good number of times. But the maturity, depth and confidence of love I have with Maggie is something altogether different.

I often tell people “we just fit each other”, and I can’t really explain it better than that. Long time readers will have followed much of our relationship on here (as, and this is a bit weird, I’ve had this blog longer than I’ve known her) and may recognize what I mean.

It’s not to say we don’t have our problems, nor that we don’t squabble endlessly. We do, of course. But they never overshadow our love and respect for one another.

Respect.

My father, who led our wedding ceremony, imparted that gem on me. He, a divorcee who just celebrated his 20th wedding anniversary to my stepmom, recently reiterated a point to me that was originally part of his speech at our wedding (Dad, I hope you don’t mind me sharing this):

“I know it sounds corny but we make it work by keeping things romantic and always maintaining the highest respect for one another. The love we feel for one another is a given but I see other couples say things or act in a certain way that clearly communicates they have no respect for each other. To me, that is an unmistakable signal of a deep problem that will eventually kill whatever love exists. I know I said it at your wedding but I absolutely believe you can have respect without love, but you can never have a sustainable love without respect.”

It may be a bit strange that it is my dad and his second marriage (the first, obviously, being to my mom) which acts as such an inspiration to me. But seeing the two of them still able to find that magic even after two decades of seeing each other every day – that’s hard not to appreciate and look up to – and it’s easy to understand that he lives by his own advice.

And though a year and a half is only a drop in the bucket of a lifetime… today fills me with a feeling of both it having been a very short and very long time since we took our vows and promised to love each other always. Short because it is still just the beginning of our lives together, and long because I cannot imagine a day of my life without her in it.

I realize that “Love and respect will keep us together” is a more fitting title for this post – but once I typed it, I just couldn’t get the song out of my head.

For the last nine days I’ve been thrown back into a lifestyle I had nearly forgotten – bachelorhood. Now before images of me out all night sniffin’ coke off the scarred ass of a 50 kuai hooker spring to mind – let me assure you, such is not my meaning. My deviated septum doesn’t allow for that anymore.

No, what I mean is, I’ve had the run of the house. Responsible for its cluttered and cleanliness. Free to watch whatever show I want to watch – no debate. Free to cook non-Chinese food – every day. Free to stay up until all hours of the night on my computer and not feel guilty (nerdy, but not guilty). Free to drink 3, 4, 5, 10 beers with dinner and suffer no dirty looks. Free to stretch out over the entire bed without fear of gong-fu like recourse. And whats more…

Free to miss my wife.

Awe, cheese, I know. But well, it’s our first anniversary in two days, allow me some leeway.

Really though, our marriage is fantastic (take that fates!). We have our squabbles from time to time, as all do I suppose, but if anything we’ve grown more tolerant, understanding and accepting of each others flaws (she’s a patient, PATIENT woman) and argue remarkably little considering both of our stubborn streaks and the amount of cultural differences we deal with.

However, one thing I’d begun to notice in recent months and what crystallized for me since she’s been away is that it’s remarkably easy to take your wife for granted.

Those little things that seem like nothing when done every day, really do add up. Glaringly kind things like her, unprompted, going way out of her way to pick me up some fresh crusty bread, to more subtle things like popping her head in my office to tell me my dumplings have been finished cooking for 20 minutes (I have a remarkable ability to begin cooking something and then erase all memory of ever being in the kitchen).

I’ve long known that my quality of life is made up not by the large milestones defined by age, stature or money, but rather by the small moments. The long-tail of happiness, if you will.

I think what I’m realizing now is that this equally applies to a good marriage. When I think about the things I’ve missed about Maggie, they’re not the big things that might be expected. Rather, they are just the little every day things.

Though there’s no shortage of people that will say different, I always used to smirk on the occasion that someone would exclaim how much better their life was with their spouse in it. Perhaps because we live in a world where we’re taught (often by life itself) that love is fleeting, I always had that “yeah, just wait…” glint in my eye.

But now, I don’t know. Nietzsche said, “It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.” Looking at what I’ve missed most about Maggie while she’s been away, it’s not been the “lover” qualities (ok, ok, sure, missed that a bit too) as much as the “friend” characteristics.

Through choice and/or circumstance, Maggie really has become my best friend and I can’t wait for her to get home.